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[Fallout New Vegas Collaborative Storytelling] Ain't That A Kick In The Head
Captain Carrot
Alexandria, VARegistered User regular
Alexandria, VARegistered User regular
War. War never changes.
When the bombs swept the earth clean in a sea of nuclear fire and mixed metaphors, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, form new tribes.
As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.
The NCR mobilized its army and set it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.
Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, they gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.
Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer, Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.
I'm looking for 3-4 players to reenact the main storyline of Fallout: New Vegas. There isn't going to be a strict ruleset here: no dice, no cards, no real randomness. Your characters aren't going to fail unless you want them to -- and sometimes that is going to happen, because winning's not much fun if you can't lose. But the main goal here isn't to kill everything in your path, but to tell a good story together. To that end, your character sheet will consist of a backstory and three tagged skills from: Guns, Energy Weapons, Explosives, Unarmed, Melee, Speech, Barter, Sneak, Lockpick, Repair, Science, Medicine, Survival. An ex-NCR soldier might be skilled with Guns, Sneak, and Survival, for example, and might therefore have a hard time fixing her gear or getting a good deal on what's too broken down to use. Figuring out why your character is in Goodsprings, how each character knows the others (if at all), and why they're working together will be the last step before beginning play.
When the bombs swept the earth clean in a sea of nuclear fire and mixed metaphors, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, form new tribes.
As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.
The NCR mobilized its army and set it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.
Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, they gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.
Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer, Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.
I'm looking for 3-4 players to reenact the main storyline of Fallout: New Vegas. There isn't going to be a strict ruleset here: no dice, no cards, no real randomness. Your characters aren't going to fail unless you want them to -- and sometimes that is going to happen, because winning's not much fun if you can't lose. But the main goal here isn't to kill everything in your path, but to tell a good story together. To that end, your character sheet will consist of a backstory and three tagged skills from: Guns, Energy Weapons, Explosives, Unarmed, Melee, Speech, Barter, Sneak, Lockpick, Repair, Science, Medicine, Survival. An ex-NCR soldier might be skilled with Guns, Sneak, and Survival, for example, and might therefore have a hard time fixing her gear or getting a good deal on what's too broken down to use. Figuring out why your character is in Goodsprings, how each character knows the others (if at all), and why they're working together will be the last step before beginning play.
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Posts
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
Sounds interesting!
My d20 is sad.
SCREW HIM!, he's a big baby anyhow.
One of my favorite memories from FNV was dealing with the Great Khans.
One of my favorite memories from FNV was bathing in the blood of the Great Khans. (After a terrible misunderstanding, but whatever. At that point, the gloves were off.)
I'm fleshing out a proper background, but to the extent anyone wants to coordinate, here's what I'm cooking up for this game: I was once a simple tracker and hunter, until I lost my kin to a Fiends raid. Took justice out of their hides, discovered they were hopped up on drugs they bought from the Khans. The Khans are the head of the snake that killed my family. The head must be severed from the snake, or its venom sacs removed. One way or another, their poison will stop polluting the region. That's what brought me to Goodsprings, and what will ultimately propel me into the absolute morass of the region's politics. (Tag Skills: Melee, Sneak, Survival)
Tags: Guns, Speech and Medicine.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
Name: Teague McTiernan
Attributes: Agility (High), Charisma (Low)
Tags: Survival, Stealth, Melee
Appearance: Wiry man, mid-twenties, tanned face, unruly sandy brown hair, coal-black eyes; desert utility wear, faded boonie hat, red-brown bandana mask
Stuff: shotgun, handful of rounds, hatchet, skinning knife, machete, rucksack, whetstone, worn boots, some rations, canteen, lighter, gecko pelt, mishmash Caravan deck, a few caps
Faction:
Mama always said it’s better to go with the Devil you know. The families running New Vegas are corrupt, and they don’t give a damn for anyone outside the Strip, but at least they’re our people. NCR acts noble, yeah, and they’re all washed and fed all the time, but they’re just gonna use us up and leave our husks for the sun soon as they get the Dam to themselves. And Hell, the Legion’s a hundred times worse. Slavery, rumors of cannibalism. They have their way, we’ll all be in shackles or runnin’ around in wolf pelts. Where do they find all those damn wolves, anyhow? Nah, better the Devil you know. Be nice if we could shake up the status quo here in New Vegas. With a proper leader, we could really be something.
Backstory:
My family used to live with a couple others, banding together in the shadow of New Vegas’s Westside. We scraped together and did alright, I suppose. Usually we’d have enough caps between us to see to any needs we couldn’t take care of on our own. It was a simple life. A hard life. But hell, it was an honest life, and we took pride in that. Figured we had a measure of security, too, being so close to the city wall and all. Kept tryin’ to move in there, never would work out, though.
My job was to go ranging. For scrap, for meat, didn’t much matter. Go out, find useful stuff, bring it back. Just me, all by myself. I got real good at going unnoticed. Got especially good at hunting, tracking, and knowing which berries will give you the shits so bad you wish you’d just die already. But man, bullets get hard to come by, so I learned to make do. Bat, machete, old carving knife. Anything close to hand, really. In a fight for your life, you learn fast to turn just about anything into a weapon. One time, I brained a baby radscorpion to death with this big fancy serving platter I found. Platter wasn’t worth so much at Miguel’s, dented all to hell, but I made it home okay. Sometimes, you just don’t ask for more than that.
And sometimes, you come back and find tragedy has struck. It happens. Once in a while, a small band of Fiends would come by to stir up trouble. We always held them off before, but they might get one of us first. It’s a fact of life, you learn to live with the constant threat of danger. Well, at least you learn to live with what you think is a constant threat of danger.
I came back one night, pleased as punch with my haul - we were gonna eat well for days! Our little makeshift home was quiet. Well, it was dark out, makes sense. It was still. That’s less usual; it wasn’t that late out. I got closer, saw our stuff strewn all around, someone lying in the dirt. It was all over. The home, ransacked. All my kin, both by blood and affiliation, killed or hauled off. A few dead Fiends. I recognized their colors. Small-timers looking to make it big.
Well, I’ll be damned if I let them build themselves up on the corpses of my family!
Those were dark times. Until then, I’d never killed a person except in self-defense. It was hard enough surviving in the wasteland, why go borrowing trouble? Well, one group of degenerate fucks didn’t share that notion. I tracked them through the shanties and ruins of Westside, found where they holed up. Then I waited. You get good at waiting, out in the wastes. Waiting for the dust storm to blow over. Waiting for a dangerous animal or gang to pass. Waiting, waiting, waiting. So I waited; I’m good at it. One by one, I disappeared them that night. There were five, all told. The last one died screaming. I had started to get the shakes, it wasn’t clean. It wasn’t pretty. Not that any of them deserved clean or pretty.
But shit. Every one of them had a stash of Great Khan crap on them. Junkies, figures. Whatever this stuff was, it was especially bad, even by the standards of the shit the Fiends poison themselves with. I got my pound of flesh out of these sad assholes, but if the Khans keep churning that filth out into the world, there’d be another family somewhere else. And then another yet elsewhere. Shit. Better sharpen the machete. It turns out I ain’t finished yet...
Goddamnit, barkeep. Pick up your chin and pour me another round of rotgut. Now, tell me about this town. Goodsprings, you call it? I didn’t see a single spring, good or otherwise, on my way in. Nah, nevermind all that. Just tell me who’s worth knowing. While you’re at it, you know anybody needs a job done? I expect I’ll need to resupply now that I’ve finally made it here.
Also, I added appearance notes and a basic equipment list (let me know if it's okay) to provide a sense of what Teague would look like. I think it's all fairly typical stuff. I'd like to add some basic light armor, but thinking back on when I did my play through, it seems to me armor wasn't really a thing at the very beginning of the game. I might have had to earn a fair bit of scratch before I could buy some brahmin leather or anything similar.
Tags Guns, Medicine, Survival
Stuff Basic Clothing, Stimpaks, RadAway, .22 Pistol, Ammo, Canteen, Small Amount of Caps
Faction New California Republic.
Backstory I was born in Baja, in some no-named place that even the NCR didn't know about. After some raiders burned the place down, my parents, my older brother Diego, and I all moved to Dayglow. Growing up, my brother wanted to be a Ranger, one of the elite NCR Soldiers. All I wanted to do was be a doctor, like my father. He taught me the basics but not enough to save him and my mother when the Cough Plague broke out. After that, I joined with the NCR Army to train as a war doctor so I could keep my brother safe. The fight took us to the Hoover Dam and New Vegas. Its terrible, how people out here lived. So why am I here in Goodsprings and not at the Dam? Well, I wanted to talk to Doc Mitchell about maybe doing some work for him. Word has it he is a talented surgeon and I would love to learn about how he can do so well out here with so little.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
Tags: Speech, Repair, Science
Possessions: Coveralls, goggles, basic tools, satchel, canteen, rations, miscellaneous spare parts, Pipboy 3000 (non-functional), fistful of caps, winning smile, box of bullets, The Duke.
Stats: Charisma 8, Strength 3
Faction: New Vegas
Background: When the world breaks, someone has to put it back together.
In another time and with formal training, I'd have been an engineer. Here and now, though, I'm more of a tinkerer. I'm good at fixing things; stuff just seems to respond to me. I've got a head for numbers, and processes and formulas. And I'm good with people, too. Daddy said that he'd have traded any one of those away if it meant I could shoot worth a damn, but we don't always get what we want.
When I left home, Daddy insisted I take The Duke with me. "The Duke has been my friend though many dangers," he said. "Might keep you safe, too."
The Duke is a six-chamber, double action gunmetal beast with a black polymer grip that's chambered in .525 magnum. It looked huge even when Daddy hefted it. I usually need two hands to lift the damn thing. But Daddy is a sentimental sort and I was breaking his heart by leaving home, so I didn't refuse.
I travelled with the caravans, helping out wherever we stopped, just trying to help people improve their lives in whatever little way I could, whether that was fixing things that were broken, helping them access old computer files, or helping to negotiate a truce between feuding neighbors.
My most recent stop was Goodsprings. Nice people, and after I fixed a waterwheel they offered to put me up in a room and keep me fed if I stayed around to act as their live-in Mr. Handy. So far it's a damn sight better than sleeping on the sand and dodging gropes from bored and horny caravan guards.
Appearance: Tori is a slight woman with olive skin and dark green eyes. Her hair would be called strawberry blonde if anyone still knew what a strawberry was. She has a pleasant, easy-going demeanour, thanks largely to the fact that she has so far been sheltered from the worst the Mojave has to offer. She wears functional coveralls both to keep the grease and grime of her work off her, and also to help conceal her figure. She pulled an old PIPBoy off a dead Vault dweller a while back, but hasn't been able to get it working again. She feels cool wearing it, though.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
I sad.
I've always wanted to get an ending that should've been in the game but wasn't.
Possibly try to get the Brotherhood chapter, Remnants and Super Mutants in on the action. Use all the weird technologies you find from various places (such as the cast-off space programs of House, Sierra Madre and the Big Empty) to bolster the industry/defense of the area.
You never actually go around telling various settlements and factions that, hey, maybe we should form a centrally recognized government of our own.
Everybody needs to stop being isolationistic dickheads.
That said, this is Fallout, nothing goes that smoothly. I could see a Mojave Republic working out, but it would probably take longer than the timeline of the game to make NCR less-than-hostile.
I agree, which is why it's so frustrating that it wasn't written into the game. Yes Man does nothing to improve the Mojave. House is just the status quo, so NCR is the best ending they wrote. And it's tepid. The one thing Fallout games share is the chance to leave the world a little better off, and FNV barely manages that.
Tags Barter, Medicine, Survival
Possessions medical supplies, various books, pots, pans, utensils, a cranky hunting rifle that pulls to the left, a few rounds of .308, sleeping roll, canteen, rations, pocket knife and whatever salvage he happens to have at the moment
Faction none, former Follower of the Apocalypse
Background
Bill Calhoun is the man who watched Edward Sallow become the man known as Caesar. Although Sallow never got along well with his fellow Followers and considered them naive and toothless, he nonetheless had a sentimental affection for them. This might've explained why he was eventually persuaded to let Bill Calhoun return to the Followers with a message from the new self-styled emperor of Arizona. Bill is still bitter from watching a fellow Follower use his knowledge to become a god, tryant and slaver. He is now wandering the Mojave trying to forget and wonders if perhaps Edward Sallow was right after all about the Followers.
Bill has been known to vanish into the wastes for months on end before resurfacing once more. He is dramatic, loud, fond of stories and whiskey. His long service to the Followers and knack for doctoring has earned him connections and good will throughout the Mojave. There likely isn't a group or individual in the entirety of the Mojave that Bill doesn't know about and he has an encyclopedic knowledge of the land, its flora and fauna. What he can't find make or hunt for himself he trades for. When it comes to salvaging, he knows what is valuable and will know exactly who will want it.
As a perk, Bill is part of an exclusive club of eccentric lone wandering crazies that he has crossed paths with at one point or another. Such is the way of the world.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
I'm thinking it over, I'd hate to force you off your concept.
EDIT:
Okay, I've refined the concept and cut some of the excess fat off it.
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227
The Division, Warframe (XB1)
GT: Tanith 6227